Random Riffs
by TheLittleRipper
Summary: Written for the 30 Days of Writing: A drabble a day challenge on Tumblr. Beca x Jesse. Day 12: Knowledge. "There are a lot of things that Jesse has learned about Beca, and there are a few things that he's learning about himself."
1. Beginning

**Hello :) So, this is for the 30 Days of Writing drabble challenge on Tumblr. I've never written anything Pitch Perfect-related before, but I'm so in love with this movie, that I figured I'd give it a shot.**

**Spoiler Alert! You guys will probably find this drabble badly written, but in my defense, I haven't really written anything in a_ while_. So here goes.**

**Disclaimer: Y'all know the drill. I own nothing from/in Pitch Perfect.**

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**Beginning**

They're sitting on opposite sides of the auditorium, waiting for the first freshmeat (as Beca often liked to refer to the freshmen) audition to take place. Beca turns her head just a fraction to glance at him. Jesse looks back at her and wags his eyebrows, eliciting a smile from his girlfriend's face, before it reverts back to its usual sarcastic look, as she mouths the word "dork" at him.

Their silent banter is interrupted by the entrance of a tall blonde girl wearing a tad too much make-up onstage. Jesse gives her a wink before turning his attention to the blonde auditioning for the Bellas, and Beca is also forced to turn her attention back to the business at hand.

One by one the freshmen show off their ability to sing Katy Perry's _Firework_ on different levels of terrible. Beca loses focus and her mind drifts back to her first day at Barden. She thinks back to her first encounter with Jesse, when he serenaded her with _Carry On Wayward Son_ in the back of his parents' car. She remembers the day she auditioned for the Bellas, and the night she was initiated, their first competition, the night they won the ICCA's, her first kiss with Jesse…

She'd opened herself up to so many new things, and while she was still a bit scared, she had yet to regret any of the things she'd started in her first year at Barden. It's a new beginning for her this year too, as the Bellas' new captain. A new year that now involves actually attending classes and being with Jesse, and a new competition season where the Trebles and the Bellas, for once, get along.

"_Told you," _Jesse had once said to her, _"the endings are the best part."_

She thinks the beginnings are sometimes pretty good too.


	2. Accusation

**So it's 2:30AM and I have no idea what I'm doing still up, but I figured I'd make the most of it, so here you go!**

**Disclaimer: **Still own nothing. Yep.

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**Accusation**

Jesse never admits to getting jealous, even if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like when a frat guy tries to flirt with her at the few non-aca-parties she lets him take her to, or when "aca-guys" wink at her backstage during competitions, or even when she takes a sudden interest in Chris Evans when they watch Captain America for her movication. No, he never admits to it when he's jealous, not even when it comes to Luke.

Don't even get him started with Luke.

It bothered him when they'd first started working at the station (and they hadn't even been dating yet), it bothered him to see Beca eyeing Luke's six-pack during the "twenty-two forever" incident, and yes, it certainly bothered him to learn that she'd actually gone _out _with him once. (She insists it wasn't a date, but his imagination likes to say otherwise.) And of course it doesn't help that even now when they're a couple; Luke does a very bad job of pretending that he's _not_ checking out Beca.

Like one day at the station, a few weeks before summer, when Beca bends over to pick up a dropped CD, and Luke tilts his head from the window of the DJ booth to get a good look at her… asset. It definitely doesn't go unnoticed, and Beca's surprised to hear something close to a growl come out of nowhere.

"Hey nerd, what's with the animal noises? I thought you liked saving those for when we're alone," Beca jokes. To her surprise, Jesse doesn't smile or give an equally playful answer.

He keeps his eyes on the records he's sorting as he grumbles something along the lines of why the hell the booth has to have so many glass windows. He thinks she can't hear him, but Beca catches his remark and her eyebrows shoot up and a smirk creeps its way onto her face.

"Is that jealousy I hear from you?"

Jesse's eyebrows scrunch together, but he keeps his eyes on the records and scoffs. "What? No!"

Beca tries not to laugh—not yet at least—as she steps closer to him. "You sure? Because I can see some sort of green in your eyes."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. My eyes are brown."

"Not right now they're not."

He doesn't have to look up to know that she's standing right behind him. He can feel her presence; just as well as he can hear the laugh he knows she's biting back, but he refuses to look at her, still too irritated at Luke to joke about it.

So she takes matters in her own hands and uses one to hold his face and lift his head up to meet her eyes. "You are totally jealous right now," she teases, but her smile is fond.

Jesse gives in, because he always does, and smiles, holding his ground on his denial. "I am not. I mean, how can I be when you're obviously so into me, you can't even manage to stay three feet away?"

The remark earns him an eye roll and a laugh. "You're such a dork."

Beca will never admit it, but she likes when Jesse gets jealous. She will never tell him how she finds it cute when he makes his "I-can-totally-take-him" face, or how she finds it hilarious to watch him get all riled up over something as ridiculous as Luke checking her out.

Nope, it sounds way too girly and messed up for her to admit, so she'll never say it out loud without a torture session first. And she decides to just enjoy it when it happens.

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**I get ridiculously happy when I read reviews, so won't you send some my way? :))**


	3. Restless

**I am so on a roll :)) Day 3 isn't supposed to be until tomorrow, but the moment I finished my drabble for days 2, I got the idea for this one, and I actually really enjoyed writing this and as soon I finished this drabble, guess what came on the radio? Simple Minds was sending me a sign, I'm telling you, because that got me my idea for Day 4, though I'm not entirely so into it. Posting it today because we go back to school tomorrow (blech) and I'm almost sure that I'll be behind on these stories when that happens so... Hope you guys like this drabble. This is my favorite so far :)**

**Disclaimer: **Still own nothing.

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**Restless**

She's not scared at all.

Even though her eyes won't stop blinking, going faster by the minute. If her body were making the decisions, it would happily shut her eyelids and shut down for some well-deserved rest, but her brain refuses to allow it.

She's not scared, she is so not scared.

And though she really wants to get up from bed to pace back and forth and clear her head, Jesse's arm is wrapped around her waist and preventing her from doing so. She doesn't want to wake him… and she is kind of worried about leaving the security of his embrace, god forbid there be anything lurking in his dorm room, waiting patiently to claim victims.

Nope, not scared.

But the fact that the room's window is next to a bunch of angry trees on a windy evening is not helping, at all.

Okay, maybe she is a little scared.

Though of course, she refuses to admit it. Not out loud, at least; because let's face it, Jesse doesn't really seem to be the one with the balls in their relationship. And this is all his fault anyway. Damn that boy for forcing her to watch Paranormal Activity with him right before bed. He is completely to blame for the fact that she is lying awake at two in the morning, her imagination running wild.

She feels something crawl up her ankle and quite literally her body stops functioning. It takes her half a minute to be able to calmly process that it's just Jesse's toes. She seriously considers killing him right here in his sleep for putting her through this. But then he'd probably just haunt her and she'd be even more screwed. Then again maybe he loves her too much to become a vengeful spirit…

What the hell?

She's definitely losing it—or maybe she's just been watching too much Supernatural—and at that very moment, she wants nothing more than to drag Jesse down with her.

"Jesse?"

It comes out in a whisper, and of course Jesse doesn't stir. She raises her voice a notch, careful not to disturb Benji, who is fast asleep on the other side of the room. "Jesse! Are you awake?" She adds a little nudge this time.

He doesn't move or open his eyes, but she can hear a low groan coming from his throat. "What does it look like, Beca?" Jesus, he can be crankier than her when he wants to be.

She turns around under his arm and levels her face directly in front of his, and waits a few seconds to see if he'll open his eyes before she has to bug him again. Jesse lifts his lids halfway, barely able to make out her features before he actually makes an effort to_ smirk_, the smug bastard. Even half-asleep, he knows her so well. "I thought you said you weren't scared."

She lets out a small huff, but feels his arm tighten around her. He pulls her close enough for her to lower her head and bury her face into his chest, closing any space between them. She doesn't have to look up to know he's amused. She can feel the rumble in his chest and hear him chuckle.

"It's not funny," she whines, kicking him under the sheets, her voice muffled by the material of his shirt. "If I can't stay awake during Bella rehearsal tomorrow, I am definitely calling you out on sabotage." She feels him laugh before he kisses the top of her head.

"Go to sleep, Beca. You're scarier than those ghosts anyway."

She ignores his little quip, since nothing ever actually sounds insulting when it's coming from Jesse, plus she's way too tired to come up with anything good at the moment. She just mentally chants that he's right, she has nothing to worry about. Jesse's here to keep her safe, and even if he's about as menacing and aggressive as a stuffed animal, at least he'll die trying, not that she's hoping it ever has to come to that.

Beca closes her eyes and buries herself deeper into his embrace, if that's even possible.

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**Review please :) There is nothing I love more.**


	4. Snowflake

**Day 4 :) What was supposed to be a drabble has turned into (technically) a full-blown oneshot, so I'm not sure if this even counts. This is definitely not one of my favorites, though. I live in a tropical country and therefore am left completely clueless when the prompt is the word "snowflake", so writing this felt forced. Hope it still turned out okay though. And I really, really wanna thank everyone who's reviewed/been reviewing these drabbles. Your words have made me all warm and giddy inside :" lol :))**

**Anyways, here you go!**

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**Disclaimer: **You know the drill. I own nothing, nothing at all.

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**Snowflake**

Two weeks before Christmas, Beca and Jesse order take-out and sit cross-legged on the floor of the radio station, and they play an impromptu game of "I've never". The game is Jesse's idea. It's his favourite way of getting to know Beca, and no matter how many times they've played it (and they've been together for nearly a year and a half now), there always seems to be something new to learn about her. Like today.

"I've never seen snow."

He looks up at her, fried rice and bits of dumplings hanging from his wide-open jaw. "Seriously?"

Beca's face gives a look of digust and she throws at him the paper bag where their food used to be. "Shut your mouth, weirdo. That's gross!" He has to laugh at her before he complies, and then goes back into his initial state of shock. All Beca does is shrug it off, unable to see what the big deal is.

But Jesse is Jesse; so of course the fact that Beca has never seen snow is a big deal to him. It's nearly as bad as the fact that she didn't like movies. Some of his best childhood memories are of playing in the snow with his siblings, and childish as it sounds, he can't understand how Beca can possibly be okay with missing out on something as fun as snow.

So it's four days before Christmas break when he recruits Benji's help, and within those four days, their dorm room is overflowing with bits and pieces of paper, scattered in nearly every corner. It's a complete mess, and thankfully Beca is so busy with running Bella rehearsals that she has absolutely no time to drop by to witness it, lest she ruin the surprise.

The preparation takes a lot of time and effort, and he curses Edward Scissorhands for making it look so easy. In the end though, they pull it off, and Jesse buys Benji a rare Luke Skywalker collectible for Christmas, as thanks for being such an awesome roommate and takes him out to burgers before getting ready for his date with Beca.

It's the night before they leave Barden for the holiday break and they'd both agreed to meet at Beca's room to exchange presents and watch holiday-themed movies, a sort of Christmas edition of her movication. She's waiting for him with her make-up done, but wearing his Treble shirt and some shorts, thinking that their night would be spent within the confines of the four white walls she now shares with Fat Amy.

That plan is shot to hell, of course, when Jesse shows up twenty minutes early and basically commands her to put on some jeans. She mutters a complaint but figures that she's been with Jesse long enough that she should've seen this coming, and once she's done, is met with a blindfold hitting her right where it's supposed to be. A blindfold—really? How much weirder could her boyfriend possibly get?

She goes along with it and hears the rumbling of what sounds like a chainsaw. She stops dead in her tracks and tries to look as serious as possible. "You know, you didn't have to go through all this trouble to murder me."

He chuckles, but doesn't answer her before he tugs on her hand a proceeds to guide her again to their destination.

When he finally takes off the blindfold, Beca actually gasps. They're standing in their usual spot in the quad, but Jesse has managed to transform it into some cheesy piece of winter wonderland. White Christmas lights are wrapped around their tree, dangling and twinkling like stars, and Beca learns that the chainsaw sound she'd been hearing was actually one of those giant ice shaving machines that she had no idea actually existed. It's spewing out flecks of ice in their direction and she can feel one melt as in lands on her nose.

And then there're snowflakes, snowflakes everywhere. Different shapes and cut-outs of snowflakes are scattered everywhere, dangling from the tree and completely surrounding them on the grass. So many paper snowflakes, and from where she can see, he'd even stuck some onto the ice shaving machine.

"I figured I couldn't let you go through life without experiencing snow at least once. Now I can really die a hero," he tells her with a grin.

She stops taking in her surroundings and finally looks up at him. Beca's face is completely lit up, and Jesse feels more than pleased with himself to see her look that happy.

Before she'd come to Barden, Beca had seen set-ups like this before; guys making very cheesy and very grand gestures for girls that they liked, and she had always found them pathetic. Now however, she's starting to think that maybe she'd taunted them because she was bitter that nobody had ever cared enough to do those things for her… Nobody until Jesse, that is.

He's not prepared for it, but he definitely doesn't complain when she just grabs his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. It's intense and perfect until she pulls away to punch his arm.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"I hate you. My gift is so crappy now in comparison. How the hell was I supposed to top this?" Her pout makes him laugh and he knows that this is her way of saying how amazing she thinks his surprise is. He thinks about telling her that this isn't even his actual gift, but decides to save her outburst for later, savouring the light in her eyes as she lifts her hands up to catch the flecks of ice.

He pulls her in for another kiss, partially because he couldn't think of anything to say, but mostly because the way she was looking at him was driving him crazy. The kiss lasts until they have to come up for air, and Beca, whose arms are wrapped around Jesse's neck, pulls him down so his forehead is resting against hers.

"Thank you," she whispers, smiling as if she was trying to hold back a squeal. "Really, Jesse, thank you."

"Merry Christmas Beca."

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**Reviews are encouraged and much appreciated :) Tell me exactly what you think!**


	5. Haze

**So I know I'm behind on these drabbles, but what can I say, school can be a bitch :)) But I do plan on catching up within the next several hours because I'm in a tremendously good mood. Today the results to one of my dream colleges came out, and I got into my first program choice! And if you're from here in the Philippines, you would know how big of a deal getting into Ateneo is :))**

**So anyway, this took a while to write, because I wasn't sure about my idea but I do hope you guys like it :)**

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**Haze**

For Beca, fighting with Jesse is kind of like being drunk.

It starts out like any normal fight does. Someone says the wrong thing, or someone is too tired to deal with the other person's bullshit, and it ends with one of them walking away, leaving a hole somewhere deep inside them both that suddenly seems impossible to fill. These arguments of theirs hardly ever happen; but what they lack in frequency, they make up for in duration.

Their fights can last for days—weeks even—and like Beca puts it, it's like walking around drunk. She goes about her days aimlessly and everything else around her is a blur. It's hard to focus even on Bella rehearsals, so everyone can tell when there's something wrong, and them trying to cheer her up is less than uplifting and more like rubbing salt in the wound. Her emotions are on haywire and they weigh down on her so heavily that she feels too tired to move. It's the absolute worst time for anyone to talk to her, to approach her, to simply be around her.

Yep, being drunk is definitely the right way to describe it. Because when Beca gets drunk; all the worst parts of her are amplified. Her words are harsher, her tolerance for stupidity is lower, her attitude is surlier, and the walls she'd built around herself are at their strongest.

She shuts down and shuts out, and reverts back to the girl who lived in her own little world and frowned upon anyone who lived outside of it, which makes it even harder for either of them to concede, because Jesse has every right to feel frustrated over her stubbornness. So they go through daily tasks in a haze, refusing to miss each other even if they know it's a battle constantly lost.

Eventually though, someone always gives in.

It's usually Jesse, since Beca is so used to torturing herself—she's been doing it her whole life. But when she does apologize first, it's like waking up and realizing how ridiculous you'd been the night before. She builds up her courage and cracks through her walls (she's been getting better at that, thanks to him) and she rushes to wherever he may be, before she gives herself a chance to think, a chance to chicken out.

She finds him right away, because though she tries not to be obvious, she knows him as well as he knows her. If he's with his friends, she just shows him she's there, gives him this look, and they make up later in private. If he's alone, she likes sneaking up on him, and she starts humming. She hums their song until he looks up and lets her sit next to him.

"Hi."

One word. It's all she ever has to say. It's all he ever lets her say. Because he knows how high her pride is, and he knows how hard it is for her to break through those layers by herself.

It's also because he _really_ misses kissing her, and would prefer to just skip the talking and go straight to that.

And so they decide that they're okay. But it's not automatic. Things don't just go back to normal immediately. There's a hangover. They walk on eggshells for a little while; they get used to each other and work on completely breaking her down again, but it doesn't take that long. Thankfully, the process gets quicker every time, and eventually she's sober again. Beca hopes that they last long enough that one day they don't have to deal with her hangover and they go right back to being them.

She doesn't mind that that day is going to take more time.

She likes to think it means that she'll have even more time with Jesse.

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**So, yeah. I'll be waiting for your reviews! I want to hear from you guys :)**


	6. Flame

**Here we go! Another drabble that I decided to whip up right after the last one. And yeah, the ending looks kinda rushed, so, sorry about that. But it's just that I really like the idea I have for the prompt that comes after this, and I kinda want to make it more than a drabble, so I wanted to get this one out of the way already :))**

**Thank you for your reviews :) And while I do love all the nice things you guys have been saying, I want you to know that I'm not the type who can't handle constructive criticism. So if you have any ideas on how I could improve, I would appreciate that very much :)**

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**Flame**

It was a crazy whirlwind romance, cheesy as it sounds.

There were so many heated moments; fights and nights of passion. She was a burn that refused to cool down. Always sarcastic and stubborn, always easy to piss off—always determined, always competitive and fuelled by her music. He was a firecracker. Always ready to show her he was as crazy as she could be, explosive when pushed to his limits; always had an opinion about everything—always fierce and always a surprise.

That was them. That was what they used to be.

But because she so fiercely believed that nothing lasts forever, she had made it so. It wasn't just her fault, they were both to blame. And it's not like it was such a huge fallout either. No one had cheated; no one had broken anybody's trust. It was a mutual decision, and while neither of them regret their time together, they don't regret ending it either. They agreed to be friends, but it was difficult, and they couldn't help keeping each other at arm's length.

They don't see each other for five years after graduation.

But eventually, the fates turn the tide their way. It was about time anyway. Their careers were bound to lead them back to each other.

He was finally getting his big break, working on the score of a slightly low-budget film that'd been getting a lot of buzz. Her career had already taken off, and producing the soundtrack to the movie should have been no surprise, considering the kind of projects she'd been doing lately.

He's still surprised to see her when he walks into the recording studio. And he nearly falls over when he realizes what she's doing. He recognizes the notes from the piece of score he'd sent to the studio two nights ago.

She doesn't seem to notice him and he's fine with that. He watches her smile as she listens to him playing his music. Does she know that it's his? Is that why she seems to like it? The song climaxes and suddenly she pauses it, and fiddles a few notes on the keyboard in front of her. She makes a few clicks and plays the track again.

He can't help but grin when he hears the change. She's playing with his music, she _mixing_ his song with hers, and it sounds great—better than could have ever imagined.

_Of course it sounds better_, he thinks. _She's just that talented._

"I'm glad you like it."

Her head whips up from the computer in surprise. He's the last person she ever expects to see, and she can't help the smile that spreads across her face. "Jesse."

"Beca," he answers with a smirk, and they both chuckle awkwardly.

"This is yours?" she asks, gesturing to the screen where he can see her mixing program opened and his score playing within it. He nods in reply.

"That's the score I sent for a movie I'm working on."

"You mean the same movie whose soundtrack I happen to be producing?" It's her turn to smirk this time.

He can't help the excitement that ignites so easily in him at the thought of them working together. "Well, well. Looks like we'll be working together again, weirdo."

"Only this time we won't be stacking CDs," she retorts. They stare at each other for a good half-minute, and it doesn't feel awkward at all.

She looks different. And it's not just her hair and her clothes, or her significantly lighter make-up (which he can't say he disapproves of). She looks changed, like she's grown out of more than just her appearance. For a split second it makes him nervous. What if she's grown out of him too?

But he sees the glint in her eyes, remembers the way she had played their music (_their_ music, he likes the sound of that), and he knows she hasn't changed that drastically. He knows he still knows her.

And she sees that he's changed too. The years have been significantly kind to him, but she can tell that he's not as naïve as he used to be. He's not nearly as different as she is, and she likes that. She never thought that there was anything for him to change anyway.

And then it starts. They don't realize it yet, but they've picked up their old banter, given each other their old smiles; and it sparks again. That flame that used to burn between them, it begins to flicker. It'll take a while to get it to its full strength, to fall back into old patterns and create new ones as well. But it will happen, and this flame is excited to be brought back to life.

And maybe this time, they won't ever have to put it out.

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**Oh, and to the Green Archer who reviewed the last drabble, if you're reading this, thank you :) & it's cool that you're from DLSU. I have a best friend who's also a frosh at CSB, share :))**

**Anyways, hope you guys liked this! Don't forget to drop your reviews :)**


	7. Formal

**Hey guys! I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry for that. T****his is why I write drabbles, not oneshots. It takes forever for me to finish and they're so damn long if I ever do. But when I got to this prompt, I was listening to Taylor Swift's _Starlight_ and I just couldn't resist.**

**It's the middle of the night and I'm actually pretty sick, but I wanted to finish this so bad, so here you go.**

**Hope you guys think this was worth the wait, if any of you were even waiting :))**

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing Pitch Perfect-related, even if I wish I did.

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_**Formal**_

They're sitting in their spot in the quad, and it's like any normal day. She has her headphones on, working on a mix, and he's going through his list of movies, picking some out for his Film Studies homework and picking others for future movications. They just sit there, arms leaning against each other, doing their own thing in comfortable silence. It's one of those special little "things" about their relationship; they're perfectly content with being alone and with each other at the same time. She likes that spending time with him doesn't always have to suffocate and consume her.

Eventually Jesse finishes his work, closes laptop, and moves to lie down at her feet so he can look up at the clouds. Beca knows he's just waiting for her to finish, so she decides to just save the project file for later tweaking and shuts her laptop and looks at him over her knees. "Anything on your mind, nerd?"

He's so used to his nicknames of so-called affection that he ignores them now, welcomes them even. "You know, the alumni association is throwing this masquerade for the seniors tonight."

Beca doesn't even want to think about where this conversation is headed. "I know. Chloe and Aubrey wouldn't stop talking about it last year."

"And did anything they say about it entice you?"

She cocks an eyebrow—this is definitely going where she thinks it is—and beats him to the punch. "No way in hell, Jesse."

He shifts his position to look at her. "I didn't say anything," he deadpans.

Beca rolls her eyes. "Because you were_ so_ subtle about it to begin with."

Another thing he's immune to: her sarcastic remarks. "Why not then?"

"You mean other than the fact that it's just going to be a gathering of wealthy snobs trying to dazzle seniors with their money, 'by the sea'?" She adds air quotes to that last part.

"_You're_ a wealthy snob," he says pointedly.

"I'm not wealthy, my father is."

"So you're wealthy by birth, and a snob by choice."

She glares at him. "Can we please stop talking about my dad's stupid money now?"

He shrugs and goes back to looking up at the clouds. Neither of them have to go to class for another hour, and he thinks they're reverting back to their usual silence, until he hears her say, "Besides, you'd have to wear a tux for that thing, and there's no way I'm putting on a dress."

A smile creeps up on his face, and without looking at her, he says, "Beca Mitchell in a dress. Definitely something I'd give up my movie collection to see."

She scoffs at him, but he turns and can see the twitch in the corner of her mouth. He feels satisfied with that one small fruit of his efforts.

"Why do you even want to go?" Beca asks. "We're not seniors."

"But my brother, Paul, is an alum," he tells her. "And he's going to be there tonight with his fiancée, Sarah. I was kinda hoping you could meet them."

She tries not to clear her throat, something Jesse pointed out that she apparently does when she's taken off-guard. They'd been dating for a total of six months, and not once did Jesse ever mention that he wanted her to meet his family. She knew the names, but she's never seen pictures. Though considering how long they'd known each other, she wondered why he'd never brought it up. He probably thought it would scare her off.

Well, he was right to think that. The idea already unnerved her, but not at the thought of what a big deal meeting someone from his family could potentially be. Beca was serious about Jesse, which was why she was starting to feel bad about the fact that she wasn't exactly the type of girl who could give a good first impression. Okay, it wasn't like she was meeting his parents, but still. It begs her to ask, why the hell had he gone for her in the first place?

"Why don't you just go without me?" she offers, looking down at her hands to avoid seeing the disappointment on his face.

One of the many things she loves about Jesse is that he doesn't push—well, actually he's very pushy, but at least he knows exactly when to stop.

He gives a loud and dragging sigh that she would find annoying if she didn't feel so guilty about turning him down. "Okay then," he relents. "Suit yourself. But those parties aren't that bad, you know. And I should probably warn you, the last time I went to that masquerade, there was a girl there whose feet I completely swept off. What if I see her again tonight?"

He doesn't actually mean anything by that, she knows. He's just challenging her, and she decides to rise to it.

"Really now? Are you sure you weren't just so caught up in yourself and she decided to humor you like I always do?"

He chuckles at that. "While I do agree that I find you tremendously humorous, I can assure you that that girl definitely found me to be a sort of prince charming."

"Ah, I see. So she's a princess that you made up in your head to keep you company? Guess that just proves you should probably lay off on the Disney movies, dude. It's doing eggy shit to your brain." They're both laughing by the time she finishes the last sentence.

"Seriously though, I did meet someone that night," he says. "It was actually quite movie-esque; though her ear spike wasn't nearly as scary as yours."

"An ear spike, huh? I'm beginning to sense you have a type."

"Ah, but don't fret. You know I only have eyes for you," he says cheekily, causing her to roll her eyes.

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_May 25, 2010; 6:00 p.m._

It's Saturday night and Beca Mitchell is sitting alone in "her" room. She really must be the definition of pathetic.

In retrospect, this is probably her mother's fault. The teachers at her high school were having some sort of symposium, which meant a suspension of classes on Friday that week and the Monday after the weekend. Beca had been all set to spend her long weekend in the peace of her bedroom mixing music and taking extra shifts at the record store she was working at to earn extra cash for a new pair of headphones, but that was all shot to hell when she finds out Thursday night that her mother had agreed to let her spend that free time two states away with her father.

She had rejected the idea right off the bat, but she had learned her secret skill at manipulation from her mother. One heavy sigh and "I-don't-want-you-to-distance-yourself-from-your-father-just-because-you-feel-the-need-to-take-sides" speech later, Beca was packing in her room, cursing her parents' divorce and the inconvenience it brought her for the nth time.

Beca had this radical idea that if, during her visit, she was the most undesirable house guest in existence, her dad would never drag her away from her home again. So as soon as she'd met up with Dr. Mitchell and her new stepmonster, Shiela, she'd been nothing but rude and snarky to them both. She had to hand it to them though, they handled it a lot better than she had expected.

But as much as Dr. Mitchell loved his daughter, he could only be pushed so far. So when she had announced that she was going to alone to a few record stores that night, rather than spend time with them, he had drawn the line. Either she would accompany him and Shiela to the annual masquerade that the Barden University Alumni Association was throwing, or she would be left at home to think about her much-needed attitude adjustment.

Which brings us to right now.

Beca was still fuming. What right did he even have to ground her? He'd renounced any paternal authority he had over her the day he walked out on her and her mom. It could've been a bearable punishment if not for the fact that her mom had basically forbidden her to bring her laptop, "to encourage real bonding time" she had said.

Call it rebellious irony, or a desperate move to avoid the sheer boredom that was driving her out of her wits, but eventually she decided to crash the masquerade anyway. Her father and stepmonster had left about an hour ago, so she figured the odds of bumping into them at the party were slim, and as long as she didn't get too wasted, she could easily sneak back before they arrived home.

Throwing on a semi-appropriate dress, flats, and tying her hair up in a braided bun, she found the extra mask Shiela had gotten her earlier that day, and made a break for the door.

The masquerade was being held at a yacht club. The two largest yachts on the dock, side by side, served as a mingling space and dining area where butlers were serving expensive bottles of wine, while the dock itself was wide enough to have a buffet table and a makeshift dance floor

Wearing her mask had made it easy to sneak past valet security, but the tall and bulky guard standing in the doorway to the dock was a completely different story. The line was in single file, so it wasn't like she could squeeze her way into the crowd without getting noticed.

_Okay Beca, _she thought to herself. _This is just like that time when they tried to card you at that club. You can totally fake your way through this._

She would've probably had a chance if she wasn't so grossly underdressed. But she sticks out like a sore thumb in the midst of sparkly gowns and high heels. The security guard gave her one hard look before telling her "no can do; seniors and alumni only." Beca didn't bother to argue and lie about being a senior; her height made it impossible to pull that off.

So she turned around in a huff, ready to call it quits, until she felt someone take hold of her arms. She looked up to find a boy with dark hair and brown eyes wearing a mask. Before her defensive instincts had a chance to kick in, the boy had let her go. "You having trouble getting in?"

Beca narrowed her eyes through the holes in her mask and tried to give him her best "no-shit-Sherlock look" on her half-covered face. The boy just stared at her in fascination. "What's it to you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing. I just saw how the guard turned you down and kinda put two and two together."

"Well congratulations on your semi-competent deduction skills. Now if you'll excuse me," she pushes past him. "I need to get out of here before all the stuffiness suffocates me."

He doesn't know why, but he goes after the strange and quite possibly destructive girl.

"Wait!" The boy calls out, but Beca keeps walking. "I can get you in!"

The boy is surprised when she actually does stop and turns around. "You can?" she looks him up and down, judging. "But you don't look like a senior."

"How would you know that? I'm wearing a mask."

She raises her eyebrow forgetting that he can't actually see it. "Okay, fine. _Are_ you a senior?"

He crosses his arms and smirks. "No. But thank you for asking."

She rolls her eyes, "Then I guess you can't get me in."

"Oh but I can."

Beca just scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

She's not serious, so she's surprised when he turns around and walks right up to the guard. She watches the boy conversationally gesturing to her and the man gives her a look that borders between skeptical and threatening. But he turns back to the boy and nods anyway. The next thing Beca knows, the boy is waving her over and she's unconsciously walking towards him. She barely registers the boy put an arm around her waist and lead her in to the party.

* * *

"That was _you_?"

Jesse raises an eyebrow as he tears his gaze away from the clouds and brings them to his girlfriend, whose eyes look like they're about to jump out of their sockets. "Come again?"

"_You're_ the guy who got me in that night?"

He quickly sits up and looks her right into her eyes. He's the one in shock now. "Red strapless dress, black flats, black and gold mask with that weird neon ear spike?"

Beca can't help but smirk. "So glad you remember."

Jesse ignores her sarcasm and lets his face break out into a grin. "You're my Mystery Girl. We've actually met before." He makes a face. "You didn't have that rose tattoo on your shoulder yet."

"You don't say."

* * *

_7:43 p.m._

The first thing Jesse notices about this Mystery Girl is that she's immediately bobbing her head to the beat of the music. He's not even sure what song is playing, but this girl next to him is mouthing the words, completely oblivious to him now.

"Cool ear spike," he says awkwardly. She turns to glance at him and he has no idea why he suddenly feels so shy around her.

"Thanks," she says slowly. Jesse's expecting this girl to make her unsubtle attempt at ditching him, but she just continues to stare at him like the oddball she probably thinks he is. It's beginning to make him uncomfortable and he's on the verge of visibly squirming when she suddenly asks,

"So how'd you do it?"

"How'd I do what?"

She gives him this look through her mask like he's missing the obvious. Great, now she thinks he's weird _and_ stupid. "How'd you get us in?"

"Oh, I just told him I was the Prince of Bulgaria and you were a duchess from my court."

Jesse's almost sure that the look she's giving him would burn through her mask if it could. Okay, so her sense of humor is a little trippy. He can deal with that.

"Relax," he tells her, trying to look unfazed. "My brother's a senior. I gave his name and told him you were my date."

He's not sure how she feels about being thought of as his date, but whatever her reaction, she hides it successfully and nods in understanding.

"So, what do we do now?"

That takes him by surprise. She seems to do that a lot to him. "Uh, you're not going to ditch me?" he asks lamely.

He finally has her amused at that. "Well, we can't have them finding out that I'm not really your date, right?"

Jesse can't help but smile at that. "Okay then. You wanna dance?"

"I don't dance."

Well, her good mood was nice while it lasted.

"Come on, you can't be that bad."

"Oh, I never said I was bad," she smirks. "I just don't like dancing."

"Well, Miss—wait, I don't even know your name."

The Mystery Girl shrugs and he immediately knows she's not going to tell him. "Why should I tell you? You got me in telling people I was your date. For all I know, you could be some creep who has a thing for brunettes in red dresses."

He has to laugh at that. "I promise you I'm not."

But she shakes her head. "No names. If you want, you make one up. But no real names."

He has no idea what game she's playing, or if she's hiding something; but Jesse finds her so intriguing that he nods before he even realizes it. It's just one night—can't hurt, right? "No names. But you have to dance with me."

She nods abruptly, grabs his hand, and leads him to the dance floor on the dock in one quick movement. Suddenly they're moving in time with the rhythm and he's got his hands on her waist. He's impressed that's she's making the effort to avoid making the dance awkward, so he gives her a smile and his best "moves" which she laughs at. It feels nice to break through her ice and make her laugh.

Jesse looks up and meets her eyes and for a split second he feels like he's drowning in a swirling pool of blue.

* * *

That's the reason he'd been so taken with Beca to begin with.

Even when he'd first met her, no matter what frown she wore or what insult she threw, her eyes always told a different story. To Jesse, Beca was the true embodiment of "the eyes are the windows to the soul."

"You know, you seemed to be a lot less terrifying back then. Mean, sure, but much less scary and hostile to strangers." He adds a little wagging of his eyebrows and she greets it with an eye roll.

Beca shrugs. "The only things about me you've ever actually thought was scary were my ear spike and tattoos."

Not necessarily true. He finds her ability to shut him out without warning to be very scary. "_Au contraire_, I think your tattoos are sexy."

He smiles as he watches her attempt to give him the biggest eye roll she can muster.

* * *

_8:07 p.m._

Beca has no idea what she's doing.

Well, okay, she knows what she's doing. She's dancing with a complete stranger who may or may not be planning to drug her and stuff her into the trunk of his car to take her back to his place and do god-knows-what. What she doesn't know is _why_ she's doing it.

She's also wondering why she doesn't care.

The music is fast and heavy and she's actually trying _not_ to grind herself against him, because she has to admit that even with his face behind a mask, he seems pretty damn hot. But she does have some self-respect and a sense of self-preservation—give her some credit—so she keeps up the air of mystery she's built for him. It's kind of fun, anyway. She can see in his eyes how he struggles to figure her out, and she decides that she kind of likes being a puzzle.

The air of awkwardness that's been hovering over them finally penetrates through when the music shifts to a slow song. They're at a standstill for a while, until he holds his hand up to her. She takes it and lets him guide her hand to rest on his shoulders, her other hand following as he winds his arms around her waist. She feels the blood rise to her cheeks and tells herself that she's just flustered from all the dancing.

"So what's your deal?"

Beca looks at him confusedly. "What?"

"I probably should've asked you this before—guess I kinda got caught up in the thrill of the whole party-crasher thing—but why are you here anyway?"

That's actually a pretty good question. Why _is _she here again? "I don't know," she shrugs. "I was supposed to come here with my dad, but I told him I didn't want to."

"And so as payback he told them not to let you in?"

She can see his eyebrows bunch up over the bridge of his nose, and for brief moment she wonders if she'd find that expression cute without the mask. "No, he left me at home and I snuck out."

"So you mean you snuck out to go to a party you just said you didn't want to attend? No offense, but I think the logic in your story is a bit blurry. Am I missing something in this plot?"

"No, you got the whole story," she says, chuckling. "But yeah, I know it doesn't make much sense."

"Is it a habit of yours to do senseless things like crash parties you don't even want to go to and dance with strangers whose names you don't even ask for?" Beca finds his question mildly amusing until she sees that she finds genuine curiosity on his face.

"The crashing parties, no. But you're not the first nameless creep I've danced with in my life."

He ignores her calling him a creep and feigns disappointment. "And here I thought I was special."

She laughs at him and he looks up at her to grin. They don't say anything for the next two songs and are surprisingly comfortable with the silence. When the last slow song ends, he awkwardly offers to get her a drink. It would be foolish to accept a drink from a total stranger, but it wouldn't be the first bad decision she's made that night, so she nods.

When he leaves, Beca stands awkwardly in front of the left yacht, watching him clumsily push through the crowd to get to the refreshment table on the other side. She's smiling as she watches him until she spots Dr. Mitchell and Shiela not two feet away from the boy, talking to one of her father's colleagues.

As if on instinct, Beca immediately goes on flight mode and tries to make a break for the exit.

* * *

_8:39 p.m._

When Jesse walks back to the spot where he'd left the Mystery Girl, he hates to admit that he's disappointed to find that she's disappeared. He thought she'd been warming up to him. It had certainly seemed that way when they were dancing. But apparently he'd been mistaken. She'd probably been itching to bolt from the start, but thought he was too nice to handle it. Most girls were like that with him.

In his hands are two glasses of champagne. He gulps them both down before leaving them on an empty table. His brother is nowhere to be seen and his parents are surely mingling amongst Paul's professors in one of the yachts, he's not sure which one. He doesn't really mind though. He kind of just wants to be alone.

Jesse walks. Past the two yachts, past the party itself, he walks until the dock disappears and it's just water and shore and silence. He finds a flat stone at his feet, picks it up, and throws it across the water. He watches it skip twice before sinking its way to the bottom. He considers looking for another rock, but opts to sit down on the shore instead.

"Where's my drink?"

His head whips to the side to find the Mystery Girl smirking at him in the darkness, making her way to sit next to him. The last thing he expected was to find her here, so he just stares at her, dumbfounded.

"What? Finally run out of things to say?"

He slowly shakes his head in an attempt to gain composure. "I—I thought you'd left."

The Mystery Girl's expression softens and it's not the first time that night that he wonders what she could possibly be thinking.

"I was going to," she begins, "but I couldn't get to the exit without bumping into my dad."

He nods, not sure whether he should be glad that she hadn't left, or feel disappointed that she hadn't stayed for him. He reminds himself that he hardly knows this girl, doesn't even know her name.

But that's precisely why he thinks she is by far the most fascinating person he's ever encountered.

"Well, at least I know now that you didn't stand me up. My ego has been restored."

She rolls her eyes at him, but Jesse can see the tugging in the corner of her lips, and he's content to consider that a smile.

* * *

_9:02 p.m._

Being alone with a stranger in a party is one thing, but being alone with a stranger _away_ from the party, away from any witnesses, is like asking to be murdered. And yet, Beca hasn't felt this much at ease in a _long_ time.

They're standing now, and the boy is trying to show her how to skip rocks. He picks up a rock that he deems suitable enough for the task and hands it to her, shaking his head when the only sound the rock makes is a plop as it sinks.

"You wasted a perfectly good skipping-rock."

She rolls her eyes _again_. "I'm from the city, okay? The only body of water we have is a tank." She's laughing as she says it and the boy begins a slow clap as he gestures to her.

"And the city girl actually has a sense of humor, ladies and gentlemen! Let's give her a hand."

She tries to glare at him, but for once she's actually enjoying herself too much to manage one.

"So what is this city that contains no water?"

Beca shakes her head, smirking. "I'd rather not find you following me home from school."

"How would you even know it's me?" he retorts. "You haven't seen the entirety of my gorgeous face yet."

At this point, she's lost count of how many eye rolls she's given him.

"You go to school, huh?" he picks up another rock, and it skips three times. "What year?"

She figures that it wouldn't hurt to divulge that kind of information. Anyway, if this guy was in college, finding out that she's underage would probably discourage him, not that he really seemed to be making any advances of such a kind. "I'm starting senior year in June. In high school," she adds.

"Cool," he says, skipping another rock before he turns to look at her. "Me too."

She tries to smile, but she's beginning to feel uncomfortable with all the questions. Beca has never liked telling people about herself. It always made keeping her relationships at bay that much harder.

He looks up at the sky, trying to seem distracted, as if he can sense her unease. "Wow."

Beca follows his lead, looks up, and finds that she has to agree to that statement. "Yeah, that's definitely something."

Neither of them is sure they've ever seen so many stars at night. From Beca's window at her mom's apartment, she's always been able to count the number of stars she could barely manage to see, so the sky has never really held much of her interest. But of course tonight is different. Tonight she can see dozens upon dozens of stars twinkling in the heavens, swirling around the mere sliver of moon, as if trying to engulf it, looking like a bottle glitter spilt on a black sheet of paper.

Beca is here, at a masquerade party, alone with a handsome—well, she's hoping he is—stranger, looking up at a starry night that she thought only existed in non-existent fairy tales. This has to be the cheesiest night of her life, and she's surprised to find that she doesn't really mind.

* * *

_9:30 p.m._

His watch makes a cruel attempt at dragging him back to reality by beeping in the silence. Jesse looks at the time and almost groans aloud. It's an hour drive from this yacht club back to the hotel, and the drive home tomorrow is going to take at least eight hours. So he'd agreed to leave with his parents at ten, thinking that he wasn't going to be having that much fun tonight anyway.

Now that he's here with this Mystery Girl, he wishes he could ask to stay longer.

"Do you have somewhere to be?"

He whips his head to the side and finds the Mystery Girl looking at him curiously. If he wasn't so distracted with the time and looked harder, he could probably see the tinge of disappointment in her eyes.

"No, not yet," he smiles. She nods and looks down awkwardly.

"But if I did leave, would I be seeing you again?" Jesse asks. He doesn't want to leave yet. He wants to get to know her more. So before he leaves, he wants to know if there's a chance he might find her again. The Mystery Girl looks up at him.

"Are you coming here again next year?" He doesn't know how he'll get in next year, but he's willing to try. "Or maybe you can tell me where you're from?"

She purses her lips together and shakes her head at him solemnly. It seems that one magical night isn't enough to break her down.

"Okay," he's beginning to feel awkward about this. But he wants to at least know that he tried to get to know her better. "Well… Maybe you're going to Barden for college then?"

"That's two years away. You won't remember me."

"I'm pretty sure I will," he says. Call him a hopeless romantic, but he's not willing to forget her so easily, even if she's definitely trying to block him out. Something tells him that she does this to people a lot.

"Fine. But I'm not sure if I'm going to Barden for college," he watches her expression change from behind her mask, and he doesn't just mean the piece of plastic that's covering her face. "To be honest, I don't know if I even want to go to college."

Jesse takes that as a valuable piece of information, because he can tell that for her, it is.

"It's actually been kind of an issue," she confesses. "That's why I didn't come here with my dad. He kept talking about meeting future professors, about getting to know the Barden scene, trying to get me excited. It pissed me off that he was kind of forcing it on me."

He's thankful for whatever invisible force is getting her to open up to him. "Well, what do you want to do?"

She shrugs. "Never really thought about it."

He doesn't know how to respond to that.

She sits down, getting dirt on her dress, and he follows her lead. They sit together in silence for a while, Jesse looking out at the sea, the Mystery Girl admiring the stars above.

* * *

_9:47 p.m._

"What's your dream?"

Beca whips her head to find the boy looking at her earnestly. The surprise is evident on her face for a split second, before she quirks her lips into a smirk. "A bit personal, don't you think? Cheesy, too."

He shrugs. "I'm serious."

She doesn't know, and she tells him as much. "No idea."

"Seriously? Isn't there one thing you love so much that you want it to be a part of you for the rest of your life?"

She ignores how melodramatic he sounds and really thinks about it. She does get that feeling sometimes. She's been mixing music for years, though she's never really thought much about it apart from the fact that it always made her feel better, that taking bits and pieces of other songs and turning them into something completely different is just something she enjoys doing.

She hasn't really thought much about anything since her parents' divorce.

Not even her future. Since the day her dad left, Beca has simply gone through the motions, trying to get through each day by shutting out anyone with the potential to hurt her, forgetting about anything that ever seemed good in the world, morose as it sounds. If she did have dreams before, she's forgotten all about them now.

But now that he mentions it, maybe there is something left for her to love. There is something about taking a good song and using it to create something great that makes her feel like all her problems have faded away.

Not that she'd ever say something as cheesy as that out loud.

She gives him a generic answer. "Music, I guess."

The smile he gives her almost takes her breath away. "Then you should go after that."

The boy's watch beeps again. Beca sees the frown on his face as looks down to read it, and with that she knows that their night is over.

"I-uh…" he starts. Without thinking, Beca puts a finger to his lips, and for a moment, the world is quiet as he stares at her finger and they both wonder what it would be like to share a kiss.

She smiles. "It was nice meeting you."

He's still watching her as she stands up and he follows her lead. They dust off the particles from their clothes and turn to look at each other again.

"I accept the 'no names rule'," he says. "But you can't at least take off your mask?" She shakes her head, smiling.

"The mystery's part of the fun."

He then shakes his head at her, but chuckles anyway. He turns and begins to walk back to the direction of the party, until he realizes she's not behind him. "Aren't you going back?"

"I think I'm going to hang here for a while."

He nods and grins at her cheekily. "I'll see you again, you know," he shouts to her as he walks backwards, making her laugh. "I'm positive I will!"

Beca rolls her eyes as he throws both his arms in the air to wave goodbye, but she waves back anyway, still laughing as she watches his figure get smaller, walking backward until he disappears.

* * *

_May 25, 2013; 6:00 p.m._

A knock sounds on the dorm room door. Jesse looks up from the movie playing on his laptop, staring at the door in confusion. It's not like Benji to forget his key, and he hadn't made any plans with Beca or the Trebles. He gets up and swings the door open to find his girlfriend standing before him. His mouth drops.

Beca is there, hair up and wearing a red strapless dress that looks reminiscent to a dress he'd seen a Mystery Girl wear three years ago. Her make-up is still dark, but toned down. Instead of black flats, she's wearing heels she'd borrowed from Stacie. And to top it all off, he spots a neon green ear spike, the exact same one she was wearing the night he'd unwittingly first met her. In her hands are two black masks with glitter swirling around in detail. She looks absolutely gorgeous, and he's having trouble getting past that single train of thought.

She smirks as she waits for him to take in her appearance, and then saunters into the room, walking past him and feeling Jesse's eyes on the sway of her hips. She did not realize how much she'd be enjoying this.

"What are you standing there for, nerd?"

She turns to him to find that he still looks astounded. "Wh-What is this?" he manages to get out.

"This is me picking up my date," she says matter-of-factly. "Now suit up and hurry. The party starts at six-thirty. We're going to be late!"

He's still having trouble processing, especially as he remembers their conversation earlier in the quad. "We—what?"

"Well, I can't get into the masquerade without you, can I?"

A grin spreads out on Jesse's face and he rushes over to his closet to grab the suit his brother had brought over for him the day before. But before he walks out to the bathroom, he turns to Beca. "What made you change your mind?"

"The thought of your brother telling me embarrassing stories of your childhood," she deadpans.

He shakes his head at her in amusement before closing the door behind him, and Beca sits on his bed, careful with her dress, to wait for him.

That, of course, wasn't the real reason why she'd changed her mind. After discovering earlier that Jesse was the boy she'd met in the masquerade years ago, she thought back to when he'd left her alone that night. That was the moment when she decided that she wanted to produce music. That night, she'd made the decision to do whatever it took to get to Los Angeles and follow the dream he'd just helped her create for herself.

She shakes her head in amusement at the memory of him predicting that they'd meet again. Even then, he was always right about her.

Jesse was beyond amazing. She owes him so much for all the love that he keeps giving her, and now she's come to realize that she even owes him for showing her the way to her dreams.

That was the real reason she'd changed her mind.

And besides, if Beca was really serious about fully letting him in and being open to their relationship, meeting someone from his family was the right step to take. She has no plans to run from Jesse and what they have. She knows that he's here to stay, and she wants to show him that so is she.

Not that she'd ever actually tell him any of that.

* * *

**So did you guys think it was kinda OOC, or did you like it? Drop a review and tell me :) **

**On that note, thank you_ so much_ for all the reviews, follows, and favorites that you've been dropping. They make my heart jump for joy! (weh, Sam) :))**


	8. Companion

**Day 8, everyone :)**

* * *

**Companion**

They'd been working together at the station for a little over a month now, and one night Luke keeps them past their intended shift to finish stacking an unreasonable pile of CDs in anticipation for the day off the two interns had the next day. Apparently the Brit was too lazy to get his ass out of his chair to return the CDs himself; at least that was what Beca had been muttering under her breath.

When it's time to clear out, Beca swings her backpack over her shoulder, politely bidding Jesse a quick goodbye when he calls out to her.

"Wait, gimme a minute to get my stuff and I'll walk you to your dorm."

She's made it to the doorway when she calls over her shoulder, "That's not necessary."

"Look," he says, already walking towards her, backpack in hand. "I am perfectly aware that despite your teeny tiny body, you can take out any bald, tattooed, motorcycle-driving thug, by simply taking off that ear spike of yours." He grins. "But as your friend—" she gives him a look. "Okay, as someone _trying_ to be your friend, it would be inhuman of me to just let you go off into the wilderness unaccompanied. Besides, my dorm is on the way."

Jesse tells her all this as he locks up the door of the station and when he turns to look at her, he finds Beca with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and the corner of her otherwise straight lips twitching. "I don't even want to know how you know where my dorm is."

He chuckles and wags his eyebrows at her. "You have your secrets, I have mine."

Beca rolls her eyes and almost smiles—_almost _—before turning around and walking away. "Fine then. Let's go nerd."

He catches up to her and they walk side by side in relative silence. Well, Beca is silent. Jesse is hopelessly making conversation, seemingly oblivious to her lack of response. They make it to Baker Hall and part with a grin (Jesse) and an awkward wave (Beca), one of them giddy at getting some actual alone time together, and the other telling herself that this is just a one-time thing.

It isn't.

The next time they have a shift together, he walks her to her Intro to Philosophy class (she'd turned him down but then he'd asked her why, and it would've been embarrassing to tell him that it was because she was planning to skip). And the next day, they, again, walk together back to their dorms. She finds him waiting for her after one of her Bella practices, and she takes hold of his arm after the Riff-Off so he can accompany her back to her dorm.

It's a sort of unspoken thing between them. Jesse finds that she's more receptive to him outside the radio station, and Beca finds that maybe having someone to go around campus with isn't all that bad.

Which is why on her first night of spring break, walking back to her dorm has never felt more depressing. She hates that walking across campus makes her think about Jesse, who has already been occupying her mind far too often.

She has no idea how it happened, but despite all her attempts at keeping him at arm's length, Jesse Swanson has somehow wormed his way into Beca Mitchell's life.

And now that he's not around, god does she miss him.

She can't stand how that street lamp reminds her of the time that it had been raining, they'd been sharing an umbrella, and out of nowhere Jesse decides to just run to the said lamp and belt out _Singing in the Rain_. Or how that bench over there was where she'd stubbed her toe and Jesse had given her a highly unnecessary foot rub on the spot, and had even offered to carry her the rest of the way home.

Once she's within the safety of her dorm room (which isn't safe either, really, because she looks over to her bed and the first thing she remembers is their disastrous almost-kiss) she grabs her headphones and tries to block out the sound of loneliness ringing in her head. But of course, hours into the night, her head is less than clear and the glossy screen of her phone is glaring at her.

She grabs it.

* * *

**I'm not particularly fond of this one, but oh well. You win some, you lose some :))**

**What'd you guys think though? Drop a review and tell me please :)**


	9. Move

**Thank you guys for all the follows and alerts and favorites and reviews. I really appreciate them :)**

**Shoutout to any Vampire Diaries fans who're reading this. See if you can spot the Forwood reference in this story ;)**

**Hope you all like it :)**

* * *

**Move**

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this."

Jesse drops the box he'd been hauling and turns to his girlfriend. Beca has her back to him and is standing in the doorway, her feet planted firmly on the dark wooden floor. She stiffens when she feels strong arms wrap around her waist, but calms when the sensation of Jesse's warm breath hits her neck.

"If I recall correctly," he whispers low into her ear, sending shivers down her spine, "it took a little more than talking to convince you to agree to this."

Beca elbows his stomach, but he only tightens his grip on her. Yes, she remembers the lengths Jesse had gone to persuade her to get an apartment with him once they'd moved to Los Angeles, a month after their graduation from Barden. She leans her head back on his shoulder as she recalls the way Jesse had moved his lips on her jaw and on her collarbone. It's wasn't a fair win, in her opinion, because it's not like it was easy for her keep control of _anything_ when he kissed her like that.

Beca's opinion, however, no longer matters. She had already agreed and before she could change her mind, Jesse had jumped on the task of finding their new home.

And here they were.

Before she knows it, Jesse's planting a quick kiss to her neck and lets her go. Beca is momentarily embarrassed by the fact that she nearly groans at the loss of his touch, and is dragged back into the world of unpacking.

The apartment is small, but spacious enough to fit in Beca's computer and mixing equipment, along with Jesse's keyboard and big-ass movie collection. There's a small kitchen to the left from the doorway with a refrigerator that sounds like it's been running since the eighties and is more than tired of its years in service. The bedroom is to the right, with a twin-sized bed, a lamp, and one closet.

Beca breathes out, exhausted, when they finish hauling in the last of the boxes. She walks over to the ratty old couch and plops herself down, only to be greeted by clouds of dust infesting her lungs and making her eyes water. She's heaving coughs when she exclaims, "This was a mistake!"

"Which part?"

"All of it," she whines without thinking. She's been trying to keep quiet about her real feelings toward the apartment and the whole "living together" situation. She feels the guilt pool in her stomach. Jesse's been so enthusiastic about this, and here she is admitting that she in no way shared the feeling, but she can no longer handle how depressing this place looks and the stress of moving in has taken its toll on her.

To her surprise, Jesse laughs. He sits himself next to her and she watches the dust swirl around to avoid his eyes. He puts his arm around her and asks, "What are you afraid of, Bec?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," is her answer, and she knows he believes that just about as much as she does.

Okay, fine. She's afraid that sharing the same space is too much responsibility. She's afraid that they'll get tired of being around each other so often that it'll come to the point where one of them will actually feel relieved when the other isn't there. She's afraid that he'll resent her for her complete incompetence in the kitchen. She's afraid that one day she'll forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste one too many times and he'll leave too many socks on the floor and they'll accumulate all that frustration toward each other until they simultaneously combust.

Basically she's afraid that they'll become her parents.

She thinks that maybe living together is the worst idea ever because then all that'll be missing is a signed piece of paper and then bam!—complete ruination.

Jesse wraps both his arms around Beca and pulls her to his chest. He buries his nose in her hair. "You love me, don't you?"

"You already know the answer to that," she says into his shirt.

"And I love you too." He lifts his chin to rest it on the top of her head. "I didn't ask you to live with me because I wanted to do the whole 'dramatic relationship step' thing. So stop looking at this place like it's a ticking time bomb—this isn't some stupid test to find out whether or not we're like your parents. I love you and I wanted this because I don't want us to be apart if we can help it. I want to come home to you everyday because, to me, you _are_ my home."

A pause.

"But I don't want to force you into anything either. So if you really feel like you're not ready for this, we can cut our losses right now and bring these boxes back to the car. There's a smaller apartment upstairs, I can take that and you can stay at your aunt's place, like you'd planned."

She immediately hates herself for making Jesse feel like he always has to give her a way out.

Beca finally lifts her head from his chest to look at him and smirks. "Sorry nerd, but you can't get rid of me that easily."

The grin that breaks out on his face is so ridiculously wide that she just _has to_ roll her eyes. A few seconds later they resume unpacking the essentials (starting with the bed sheets, of course). It's night time so they resolve to do the rest in the morning. They have all the time in the world together after all.

She's laying on their new (new to them) bed, staring at the ceiling while Jesse is sound asleep with one arm draped around her, his breath tickling the hairs close to her ear. Her eyes shift around, trying to embed the image of this new environment in her head.

It's drab and it's dusty, there's paint chipping everywhere and the hinges of the windows are rusty; but at least it doesn't smell. And considering the meager budget they had pulled together, Beca admits that they definitely could have done worse. She looks over at Jesse's peaceful face and smiles. He is so damn positive about everything and after her little episode earlier, couldn't stop yapping about how much better it'll be when they repaint the place together and make it their own.

_Their own_. She's always had things to call her own, but she's never shared anything with anyone. She's never been a _we_-person. It's always been just her. She's never been the type to risk her fears for others. She's never put so much faith in one person before.

But by the light of the moon with the refrigerator's soft hum and Jesse's warmth engulfing her, it suddenly seems so easy to do so.

Jesse's not going anywhere, she realizes for what is probably the millionth time in the years that they've been together. If it's him that she has to learn to cook for, and if it's him that she gets to spend every night with, then maybe she can get used to taking all these 'dramatic relationship steps'.

If Jesse believes that it's worth a shot, Beca believes it too.

* * *

**I genuinely haven't been very happy with these last two pieces. My ideas just keep starting off alright and seem to jumble themselves along the way. So I'm gonna go now and re-watch Pitch Perfect (it's been like, three weeks since I've last seen it, which is like, forever) to refuel my inspiration.**

**And while I do that, drop a review, won't you? :)**


	10. Silver

**_Warning:_ This story has absolutely no relation whatsoever to its original prompt.**

**I have no idea how it happened. I wanted to make a Valentine's Day story because I usually don't get to make occasion-themed stories. I was going to relate it to the prompt by having Jesse give her a charm bracelet or something, but it seemed to decided by itself that it liked cake more than bracelets.**

**I'm happy with how this turned out, though. And I hope you guys are too :)**

* * *

**Silver (more appropriately _Red Velvet_)**

Beca has not celebrated her birthday in years. Naturally, since the deterioration of her parents' marriage and the development of her I-hate-the-world attitude, she has cared very little about occasions such as holidays and birthdays, specifically her own.

Because god knows why, of all the days, she just _had_ to be born on the fourteenth of February.

The day Jesse finds this out about her, he actually _laughs_—because, really. Here is Beca Mitchell, the girl with the black eye shadow and the scary ear spike, the kind of girl who you're sure loathes all roses and cupids and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate; and her birthday is on Valentine's Day.

She throws a CD at him from the second floor of the radio station, and Jesse's lucky to have the sense to dodge it.

"Why the hell is that funny?" she hisses.

"Come on, Beca," he manages, still in a fit. "Do you not see the irony in this?"

She's very well aware of it, but she doesn't appreciate this kind of easy-going reaction coming from a guy she's only known for about five months. Most people would be careful and would keep their thoughts to themselves, but Jesse never seems to care about trivial things like pointing out the jokes in her life or provoking her enough for her to actually _throw_ music at him.

That year, her birthday is spent in the radio station, with Jesse willingly changing his plans so he could work alongside her. They banter like any other day, but upon leaving, Beca finds a small box next to her backpack with a note attached.

_Happy Birthday Ear Spike_

_Your weirdo, Jesse_

_P.S. Don't kill me. It's impossible to find any other kind of topping this time of year._

Inside is a red velvet cupcake with a heart resting on top of the cream cheese frosting. "What an idiot." She rolls her eyes but smiles to herself anyway.

The next year, Jesse insists on taking her out. He reasons that as it is the first birthday and Valentine's that they celebrate as a couple (with hopefully many more to come), it should be the big and cheesily romantic kind of scenario that he's been playing in his mind, probably even before they'd met. And though Beca is afraid of a catastrophe that is a candlelit dinner at some overpriced restaurant with a stuffy ambiance that neither of them will enjoy, she agrees to let him do the planning.

Instead, when Jesse unties the annoyingly itchy blindfold from her eyes, she finds herself in the middle of the dark radio station, one of her more romantic mixes is playing softly in the background, and on their desk (which he assures her has been sterilized, but is covered with red tablecloth for good measure) are two paper plates, wine glasses and plastic sets of dinnerware. It's a candlelit dinner all right—as punctuated by the bazillion candles providing the only light available (she's kind of worried that one of the rarer records will catch fire)—but it's definitely not stuffy or overpriced in any way.

"I tried to smuggle out silverware from the faculty lounge," he says nonchalantly, "but I figured that if your dad caught me I'd lose both his approval and my street cred."

Beca rolls her eyes at this, as he expects he would, and he grins at her in return. "So what do you think?"

She thinks that all she wants to do right now is to kiss him and do things they've explicitly been told _not_ to do on that particular desk, but instead she smirks in true Beca fashion, and says, "I'll tell you once I've had cake."

They eat pizza from their favourite hole-in-the-wall just outside campus with all her favourite toppings. And for dessert, Jesse brings out a heart-shaped red velvet cake with _Happy Birthday my Valentine _written on it in chocolate. She has to smack him in the back of his head to make up for the laughter she can't control pouring out of her.

There are candles of course, and while she would normally object, Jesse's eager beam is impossible to resist. Beca's not a believer in wishes, but before she blows the flames out, she closes her eyes and asks to maybe spend the rest of her life like this, with Jesse doing ridiculous gestures and the Bellas waiting back at her dorm room for all the details. For once she has something she believes is worth wishing for.

After they each have a slice, they clear the table and break that one rule Luke had given them on their first day of work.

In junior year, Beca surprises Jesse by having the Bellas help her sing _My Funny Valentine_ to him outside his dorm room window (she's getting so sappy and she wants to hate herself for it), and he retaliates by personally delivering a bouquet of roses, a giant heart-shaped card, and a red velvet cake in the middle of her Music Theory class.

But when senior year comes around, they're not speaking to each other.

Their busy schedules have been keeping them apart and when they are together, Beca is wound up and Jesse just wants to sleep. One day it just became too much for them and what their argument was about, they can't even remember.

But that was two weeks ago.

Two weeks of hell, they've been enduring. His pride is too high and her walls are too strong, so they ignore each other for two whole weeks, and everyone can see how much it's been killing them.

Beca's gotten so used to enjoying her birthday-slash-Valentine's-Day that the dread she feels today is a hundred times worse than what she used to feel before Jesse had come into her life.

Despite everything, they haven't been able to let go of the radio station, so she's more than disappointed when she walks in and finds that he's skipped his shift for the day.

But then she walks into the booth and finds a red velvet cupcake sitting atop her keyboard with a sticky-note beneath it.

_Happy Valentine's Day, Birthday girl._

_Love you._

_(hopefully still) Your Nerd_

She smiles to herself and half-hopes that he's standing behind her. When she turns around, he's not there. But she's okay with that because later that night she finds him alone in his dorm room and literally jumps him before he even fully opens the door.

It's a good thing she's tiny, because he's pretty sure that the impact of her attack should have had his back hitting the floor.

They stay like that for a good two minutes, her legs wrapped around him, his strong arms carrying her and swaying them, their lips attached, afraid to move at all, much less away from each other.

Eventually, she whispers into his mouth, "Happy Valentine's Day, dork."

They're both smiling into the kiss as he whispers back, "Happy birthday, weirdo."

* * *

**My inspiration tank has been running low, so if you guys have any suggestions, I'd love to know :)**

**I think I already have an idea of what I'm gonna do with day 11, but when you leave a review, feel free to drop a suggestion for what I should write for day 12. The prompt is: _Knowledge_**

**Thank you & remember to leave those reviews :)**


	11. Prepared

**Yaaay. I finally found the time to update! Sorry 'bout that. I haven't had much time because of school and, well, girl's gotta graduate after all :))**

**But anyway, about this drabble, I was running low on ideas, so I find it so... _ewan_ (forgive my use of another language but it was the only word I could think of to describe it). I literally made about five completely different unfinished versions of this prompt, and all were unfinished. In fact, I'm not entirely sure this is still related to the prompt, but make of it what you will.**

**Did my best, so I hope it was enough :)**

* * *

**Prepared**

Back and forth; back and forth she goes as she wrings her hands furiously.

"Would you stop pacing like that? You're going to ruin your outfit."

Chloe watches from her spot on the bed, her blue eyes wide with concern.

"Seriously Beca, calm down."

Beca's pacing finally comes to a halt as she comes across her appearance in the mirror. "Don't you have anything that can cover my tattoos better?" So much for being that snarky little alt girl who couldn't give two shits about anyone or anything.

"Unless you want to wear a turtleneck in the middle of September, then no, I don't."

Beca groans as she turns around to face the redhead. "Not helping, Chloe!"

Chloe raises an eyebrow at her, trying not to show her amusement. Beca is in a panic, over her _tattoos_ of all things. _How the hell did she become this girl?_

Oh wait. That's right.

It's the exact same reason why she is at her wits end at the moment.

Goddamn Jesse Swanson just had to walk into her life.

Goddamn Jesse Swanson just had to introduce her to his _parents_.

At a formal restaurant, of all places. As if the idea of meeting his parents wasn't nerve-wracking enough. He had to take her out of her comfort zone too.

She really hates Jesse right now.

His parents had come to drop him off again at Barden in the beginning of the school year and had decided to stay for another week to discover what the lovely state of Georgia had to offer (which, Beca is sure of, is _nothing_). Within those few weeks apparently, they had made a reservation at the newly-opened Italian restaurant twenty minutes from the Barden campus and had urged Jesse to bring along his new girlfriend.

"_You can't be _serious_. We just started dating!"_

"_We've known each other for a year, Bec. Come on, there's nothing to worry about."_

"_In case you're forgetting, I'm not exactly every parent's dream girl."_

"_Are you kidding? They'll love you!"_

"_This is a terrible idea."_

"Please_, Beca."_

_A sigh. "Don't say I never did anything for you."_

"_Is that a yes?"_

"_Not like I have much of a choice, right?"_

"_Of course you do. But really? You're not bailing on me?"_

"_Pretty sure I couldn't even if I wanted to."_

She was supposed to meet Jesse at his dorm half an hour ago. And while she knew tardiness wouldn't help anything, her nerves had gotten the best of her and here she was, stalling to no end.

There's a knock on the door and Beca already knows who it is before she even opens it. Jesse is there on the other side, looking like he'd just been stood up.

_Oh right_.

He tries to smirk. "I thought you were supposed to be the one to pick _me_ up, boyfriend?"

No eye roll. No retort. Nothing from her.

She refuses to meet his eyes as she lets him in, she stares at her shoes as she hears Chloe whisper "I'll leave you two alone" and close the door behind her.

They just stand there, Beca refusing to look up and Jesse staring her down. He breaks the silence.

"You're being ridiculous," he says matter-of-factly.

That finally catches Beca's attention, and she looks up at him with both her eyebrows raised. "Really? That's the first thing you're going to say to me?"

"Beca," he says as he steps closer, taking hold of her wrists, gently drawing circles on them with his thumbs. "I don't understand why you're freaking out about this. It's not that big of a deal."

She lets out an exasperated sigh and pulls away from his grip, immediately missing his touch as she plops down to sit on the edge of her bed. Jesse looks confused but sits next to her, and takes it as a good sign when she doesn't move away.

"I'm not used to this kind of thing, okay?" Though, okay, maybe her anxiety over the situation _is_ a bit ridiculous, she silently admits. "It's not like I'm the type of girl guys want to bring home to meet their mom. I'm not even the type who dates guys who bring girls home to their mom. Hell, I'm not even the type of girl who _dates_."

She's rambling and it's kind of embarrassing, but she can see the way Jesse is looking at her, how he's really making an effort to understand her, so she continues.

"You're trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal, but I know this means a lot to you." She swallows and braces herself, because she knows that what she's about to say is something he will never let her live down. "And I… I care about you. Things are different with you. I want this go well because I want things for us to go well, if that makes any sense."

Beca hates how her stomach flutters at the way he's looking at her.

"So…" A smile is creeping and it lights up Jesse's whole face. "You like me. You really like me."

He's wagging his eyebrows and just like that, the mood is lifted and Beca can't resist rolling her eyes.

"Come on Beca, there's no denying it now."

She groans and buries her face in his shoulder, but doesn't suppress the smile when she feels Jesse laugh. When had she become so pathetic?

"So are we still doing this?"

Beca looks up at him. "But we're like, half an hour late."

"No we're not." There's a mischievous grin on Jesse's face when he sees her blink in confusion.

"You thought I couldn't foresee your little meltdown? Please, Beca, give me some credit. By the time we get there, we'll be ten minutes early."

* * *

**You know what to doooo! :D**


	12. Knowledge

**Hey nerds! So... it's been a while :))**

**I can't give an excuse, because it's currently my summer vacation (and it's so. fucking. hot.) so I've had a lot of free time, which I've basically spent TV junking (I have a lot of shows to catch up on) rather than writing, for the only reason being: I got stuck. Multiple times.**

**Writing this, I finally understand what other FF authors mean when they _have no idea what happened_. I know I asked for suggestions for this prompt, but in the end, I didn't stick to anything specific and it took on a life of its own. I'm not sure how I feel about it, I'm not even sure it's still related to its prompt, so I'll leave the verdict to you guys.**

**Everytime I tell myself that I'll keep my AN short, it never happens. Sorry.**

**Final note: This was inspired by _ingeniousmacabre_'s _Halfway There_. It's especially evident in the later-half of the story, since I started on that half after _Halfway There_ ended (and after re-reading all 42 chapters). You can't not know that amazing story, because then, why are you here? (loljk-ish)**

* * *

**Knowledge**

The first thing he learns about her is that she's into music.

It's his first day at the radio station and he's delighted to find that the girl he'd serenaded at the back of his parents' car on the first day of college now happens to be his co-worker. Lucky him, right?

Apparently not. This girl (Beca, he learns later) is about as welcoming as a barbed wire fence, but that doesn't stop him from striking up a conversation. Jesse has never been one for awkward silences, or silences in general.

He watches the mysterious girl's eyes skim through the back of each CD she has to stack as she bobs her head to the music their new boss is playing from his booth of safety. "You find anything good?"

She looks up at him, her eyes narrowed, before she reverts her attention back to the mundane task at hand. He tries to make conversation again several moments later, only to be shot down. She even ignores his goodbye when she leaves for her class.

Okay, so maybe this was going to be harder than he thought. But on that first day, he vows to himself that each failed attempt to get to know her won't be the last.

The days pass and his persistence eventually gets him snarky comments and witty retorts when she's not wearing her earphones during their shifts together. They're not exactly useful conversations, but Beca smiles at him a little more every day so at least he's getting somewhere, even if it's in baby steps.

(More like turtle steps, but hey, with a girl like Beca he'll take what he can get.)

* * *

And _then_ he learns she can sing. She's playing with a cup onstage and while he's never pegged her as an acapella type of girl, the only thought that registers in his head is _wow_.

So he's not surprised to find her at Hood Night with the other Bellas, even if it is surprising to find her actually associating herself with living, breathing people.

He approaches her because A.) he's drunk, and therefore cannot be held responsible for his actions; and B.) Beca looks so lonely so he tells himself that keeping the poor girl company is the _only_ reason why he wants go up and flirt—er, _talk_—with her. No, this definitely has nothing to do with his ever-growing crush (Shh! It must _never _be mentioned), not at all.

The next day he has a killer hangover and no clear memory of the night before. He does, however, have a blurry image in his brain of Beca laughing at him, and it's enough to keep him from calling in sick at the station.

Jesse walks through the door and barely hides his throbbing headache once the music blares through his ears. His head is pounding and he kind of wants to whack himself with a stick. He shuts his eyes and massages his temples. When he opens them, he finds Beca smirking at him with one eyebrow raised. "Fun night?"

This is the first time that she's been the one to start the conversation, and while he should be thrilled at the sudden progress, the glint in her eyes makes him want to jump into a hole.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing," she says before turning back to the rack of CDs she had been arranging, the smirk evident on her face.

Where is that black hole again?

He runs a hand through his face and immediately sets off rambling.

"Oh my god, Beca, whatever I said, I am so sorry. I was so drunk and I was probably being an idiot and—"

"I know," she cuts off, smiling _sincerely_ at him. (Where is his camera? He may never get another chance to witness this.) "I was blurry."

She shakes her head in amusement and turns back to her work. They go about the rest of their shift in comfortable silence (another milestone, Jesse never actually thought it was possible to feel comfort in silence), only occasionally throwing snarky comments at each other. He considers today an improvement unlike any other in the friendship he's been trying so hard to build and the memory is pretty much ingrained in his brain forever.

* * *

He discovers that Beca doesn't just listen to music, she _makes_ music too.

And no, not just with her mouth. Every day this week he's seen her hand Luke a flash drive only for the Brit to toss it into a tray once she has her back turned. Beca gives Luke two more on Thursday and his curiosity peaks when he sees the hopeful look on her face once she gives the drives and goes back to work.

"They're my mixes," she tells him when he asks. "I layer tracks together, kind of like a deejay."

"Can I listen to them sometime?"

Beca stiffens, her hand pausing mid-air as she tries to reach the B shelf to sort a Justin Bieber CD. He gathers that her music must be something she keeps close to her.

"It's… not that good."

"They seem good enough to give to Luke." The moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to hit his head on the shelf in front of him. _Idiot_.

He can feel Beca's eyes on him, and he knows she caught the accusation (and okay, _maybe_ jealousy is the more accurate term, but he's not quite ready to admit he's _that_ into her yet) in his tone. He looks up to tell her he didn't mean it that way (but he did, he _does_) and is prepared for the glare she's mostly likely burning into his back at the implication of his words.

But what he finds is a smirk and what looks like (is that even possible?) _amusement_ in Beca's eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, there's hope for him after all.

* * *

She. Doesn't. Like. Movies.

At. All.

_WHAT_.

Kill him now.

Of course. Of _freaking_ course. This could only happen to him.

Okay, so _maybe_ he's overreacting (psh, as if) but despite having her pegged as The Anti-Fun, never did he expect Beca Mitchell to have an aversion toward what is easily the most common of interests in the history of human existence.

How can anyone not like movies? It's not even the equivalent of not liking puppies; it's more like not liking _air_.

(Fine, he admits he does have the tendency to take the dramatics of each situation up a notch, but it's not because he watches too many movies. No way in hell.)

It starts out as an innocent attempt to get to know her outside the radio station. Beca is sitting in her usual spot in the quad, immersed in what he assumes to be a mix on her laptop, when Jesse shows up; setting a towel (the inspiration to do this had been sudden, okay? He had to grab the nearest piece of cloth large enough before he lost his nerve) next to her.

He tosses her a juice pouch (because he's cool like that) and proceeds to empty the contents of his bag (a _candle_? How did that get in there?), unleashing what he thought was his greatest idea since he'd played with the records in the station to make her laugh (granted, that was only a few days ago, but that just shows how he's chock-full of awesome ideas). After all, what better way to impress a girl than to show off his superior taste in cinematic excellence?

In retrospect, he probably should have seen this coming.

Leave it to Beca to be the only person to consider the reason for Jesse's continued existence as bad as her parents' divorce. (He takes note of that little tidbit, because he's pretty sure she doesn't just drop that in every conversation.)

She's talking about the predictability of all movies' endings (he resents that, and really? Of all the reasons she could have to dislike them, it had to be the exact same part that he loves _most_) and how translating the word Vader in German (she knows _German_?) makes even _Star Wars_ predictable (he'd better not tell Benji about this) and he's basically in shock the whole time.

This girl is so weird.

But then so is he.

(As she so often enjoys pointing out.)

And he really, _really_ likes this girl, okay? So he guesses he'll just have to accept this little (read: _colossal_) setback. He's already in too deep.

Or _maybe_…

And then it hits him. The perfect way to change her mind and to spend more time with her: a movie education.

A moviecation.

(See? Chock-full of great ideas!)

With his help, maybe there's hope for her Anti-Fun soul after all.

(It also doesn't escape his notice how she doesn't flat-out reject the idea.)

* * *

He is so in the zone right now.

The Riff-Off has to be the greatest kind of competition ever invented. (And no, it's not because of the two beers he's had prior. He's not _that_ much of a lightweight, contrary to popular belief.) The crowd surrounding the empty pool is giving off this energy; add that to how _aca-awesome_ the Trebles sound and how Beca is actually responding to his flirtatious gestures as he sings to her, and he's pretty sure he's never felt a high like this before.

Then suddenly Beca runs up to the center and cuts him off.

With a rap.

She can freaking_ rap_.

She's oozing a kind of confidence that he's never seen in her before, haughtily brushing him off as Blackstreet's lyrics effortlessly flow from her lips. All he can do is step back, because he swears he's never witnessed anything sexier. It's rendering him helpless.

Sweet Jesus, this woman is going to be the death of him.

And the way she lights up when she sings and everyone starts to join in? He's not entirely sure he's still breathing.

Yup, definitely going to be the death of him.

He doesn't really even care that the Trebles win because of some ridiculous technicality (but that doesn't mean he will deny himself the sweet pleasure of gloating). He'd accepted defeat the moment she stepped up.

And, again, the way she looked as she sang? He's never going to forget that.

* * *

It's his first time in her dorm room, and he thinks he should take a picture to capture this milestone.

And let's take note of the fact that the reason he's here is because she wants to let him hear her mixes.

He would also like to acknowledge the fact that _she_ invited _him_.

He is over the moon.

The program is open on her desktop and she's explaining to him the basics of what she does, adorably talking two notches louder than necessary through the music blasting from her headphones. So this is what it's like to be let in to her world.

She hands him the headphones for him to listen and just…

That is a _lot_ of talent for such a tiny person.

He loves it, and he tells her as much. Screw Luke for ignoring her work. The asshole has no idea what he's missing.

And then he shows her a surprise of his own: their first movication. He pulls out his laptop and a DVD of The Breakfast Club (because not even Beca Mitchell the Anti-Fun could possibly be immune to this John Hughes masterpiece) and sets it up on her bed.

Yes, he is aware that he likes to make himself at home.

She settles in next to him, and in the darkness he tries to put into words the pure perfection of the movie's ending. They banter a bit about Judd Nelson's breakfast preferences until he requires her complete silence as the ending appears.

He can feel her eyes on him as he mouths out the words (it's safe to say that he's seen this movie more than once) and lightly pumps his fist (force of habit) to the scene. Her gaze burns, it really does. Like, he can feel the heat just rising up his neck and all the way to the top of his head. The only way to deal with this is to awkwardly try to brush it off by chastising her for not paying attention.

He can tell she's staring at him again, and this time, Jesse decides to stare back. They're leaning against each other, shoulder to shoulder, with their faces mere inches apart. His eyes flick quickly to her lips. This is it, he thinks. This is the moment he's been waiting for.

For a split second, he swears he can see her thinking the same thing.

But then she sits up to reach for the spacebar and the moment is just _gone_.

She tries to brush it off, and he tries to make light of it as well, but he knows he's doing a terrible job at masking his disappointment. He can't help it.

And then Beca's wonderful roommate Kimmy Jin comes home with her friends. The level of awkwardness in the room rises from a fifty to a thousand.

He tries to leave as casually as possible, but once he hears the door close behind him and finds himself alone in the hallway of her dorm, he shuts his eyes and leans his forehead against the wall.

He might have just ruined their friendship for a stupid kiss.

Idiot. Idiot. _Idiot_.

* * *

So maybe Beca doesn't like him _that_ way, but at least she cares enough to rescue him as if he's some sort of damsel in distress.

She has a mean right hook, he learns, and he finds it kinda (read: _very_) hot.

But that's hardly his concern, because at the moment, Beca is trying deter Fat Amy from shoving the Trebles' newly-won Regionals trophy up some creepy Tonehanger's ass.

In the struggle, the trophy goes flying through a glass window, and suddenly a cop is headed their way.

Shit just got _real_.

All the acapella groups have fled, Fat Amy is vertically running, and Beca is frozen in shock.

He has no idea how to stop them as they handcuff her and haul her away like she's an actual criminal. (With a face like that? How could the idea even cross their minds?) They take her to the nearest precinct and he follows, immediately rushing to the front desk to beg them to release her.

The bail costs more than he can afford.

He whips out his phone from his pocket and calls Barden's campus directory. He's not about to let her spend the night in prison, no sir. And there's only one option for that.

* * *

Apparently, Beca's not very close to her dad.

(Understatement of the century.)

Things had been going so well. She had been happy to see him waiting for her outside the precinct, until she spotted the familiar car sitting in the parking lot. She starts yelling and he frantically tries to reason with her.

How was he supposed to know that he wasn't supposed to call her dad? It's not like she ever shared the status of her relationship with him.

She does, however, feel the need to share the status of _their_ relationship.

"You're not my boyfriend!"

Okay, _ouch_.

Now, Jesse has never been oblivious of this fact; but to hear Beca say it, to hear the _way_ she says it, it's a blow to his chest.

_You are not her boyfriend. You will never be her boyfriend._

_She doesn't even want you around._

"Got it."

He remains silent as he hears the whole exchange between Beca and her dad. Deal's off. No more L.A. He can hear the devastation in Beca's voice and throughout the entire car ride back to Barden; he wants nothing more than to apologize. But in the end he gets dropped off in front of his dorm without having said a word to her.

He feels bad, he really does, but he's kind of busy nursing his wounded heart.

* * *

She's giving Luke another mix.

Luke just throws it into the growing pile.

Okay, he knows it shouldn't bother him as much as it does. It's been two weeks and the only words they've uttered to each other were along the lines of "Can you pass me that crate?" and things don't seem to be looking up any time soon.

He is way past wanting to apologize and has recently come across the realization that maybe _she_ should be apologizing to _him_. He just wanted to help, after all, and he had stayed when even the Bellas had deserted her. And for all that, she had yelled at him for calling her dad so he could bail her out? Yeah, he wants that apology.

But that doesn't necessarily mean that he's mad at her. No, in the end his feelings for her always win out, regrettably so. He misses her despite the fact that they spend eight hours a week within the same four walls together and he wants nothing more than for things to go back to how they were before the metaphorical shit flew right into the metaphorical fan.

So maybe he doesn't really care about receiving an apology. Maybe all he really wants is for her to talk to him again.

"Hey Luke," Jesse calls. Luke looks up from his chair in the booth, and Jesse tries not to grit his teeth at the condescending look he always seems to receive from his boss.

Jesse marches up to the booth, enters because he doesn't give a shit about that egomaniacal 'freshman rule' (he's a badass like that), picks up one of Beca's flash drives and plugs it in; all the while ignoring Luke's baffled glare and protests. Once he knows the flash drive's been scanned, he turns to Luke and, eyes locked on him, clicks play.

The music blares through the speakers and the first thing Jesse feels is an odd sense of _pride_ swelling in him. Even if she's ignoring him and he should probably hate her for it, he's _proud_ of her. He's proud because he doesn't even have to look, he just has to pick any random track from any of her random flash drives and all the same, magic pours right out of it.

Whether they're still friends or not, whether or not they'll ever be friends again, he'll be damned if Beca doesn't get the recognition she deserves.

Luke takes in the music, bobbing his head to the beat and slowly, the corner of his lips curve upward. Well, he may be a complete douche who's probably as fake as his six-pack (okay, maybe that's not true, mostly because his six-pack looks pretty real, still more real than he is though) but at least he's not faking the laudable taste in music.

He's full-on grinning now, seeming to forget the fact that he'd been denying this music for at least half a year now. Jesse doesn't care though. He's too busy soaking in the mix for himself, reveling in the sheer talent, the sheer awesomeness that is Beca Mitchell, whose creations are as intricately complicated as her own enigmatic personality.

She's not even here and yet she's still taking his breath away.

What was that thing about being mad at her again? Oh, _right_.

* * *

Thing is, he's been ignored before. Beca has ignored him before.

But that was when they hardly knew each other. That was when she was simply a pretty challenge he couldn't resist.

Now, she is so much more.

So the way that she blatantly ignores him, barging into the radio station, grinning from ear to ear at _Luke_ for playing her mix (which is really _his_ doing, not that he's bitter for the credit Luke's getting or anything); it hurts _so much more_.

So this is what it's like, to have Beca Mitchell block you out.

* * *

There are a lot of things that Jesse has learned about Beca.

Like how she inherently pushes people away.

"I don't need your help, okay! Can you _back off_?"

Nope, that didn't hurt at all.

(Because her sarcasm is rubbing off on him.)

He doesn't even know what he did wrong (surprise, surprise). All he did was correct Aubrey, and he's sure Beca was about to do the same. What was so bad about beating her to the punch?

(Pun comes too soon, and there's another pang in his chest.)

But really, it's more than that.

There are a lot of things that Jesse has learned about Beca, and there are a few things that he's learning about himself.

Like how he's been a delusional idiot this past year, and now he's paying the price.

(A price he's not even sure he deserves.)

Because what Beca says, it's more than not needing him to stand up to Aubrey for her. It's so much more than that.

_I don't need you to call my dad, or to wait outside the police station for me. I don't need your help to get my mixes on air. I don't need you to give me movications or juice pouches. I don't need you to compliment me or make me laugh. I don't need your help. I don't need _you_._

_I don't want you around, so back off._

So this is what it's like, when Beca Mitchell cuts you off.

* * *

"I'm sorry that we fought. I was mad, and I overreacted, and just—Aubrey makes me crazy."

Turns out, Beca can be just as delusional as he is.

And while there are a lot of things that Jesse has learned about her, he has also learned a thing or two about himself.

Like how far things have to go until he's had enough.

Because _really_, she thinks his issue is her _yelling_ at him? It sucks to be yelled at, sure, but he's a hundred percent sure that it's not the yelling that he's had enough of.

And he thinks that deep down, she knows that too.

Finally, he asks the question that's been tugging at him since their horrible almost-kiss.

"You push away anyone who could possibly care about you, why is that?"

He's not sure if she genuinely believes herself when she tells him she doesn't know—she has a penchant for being in denial after all.

Because he sure as hell doesn't believe her.

He knows what _this_ is. He knows how she feels (well, he has an inkling), and he's daring her, almost pleading with her, to admit that she knows it too.

Because Jesse is tired—tired of waiting; tired of tugging on her strings, only to have her cut them off or tug back until he loses his grip. He has done his share—and then some—of the work required to break through the walls that Beca has built for herself, but now it's time for her to do her part.

And if she can't, well, he's not a martyr. A guy can only take so much.

He's done.

* * *

Jesse is painfully learning how much it _sucks_ to be without Beca.

That is saying something, considering he never had her in the first place.

God, he is pathetic.

They've been avoiding each other like the plague. It's been so bad that Luke is actually starting to ask questions (because they are both very persistent about separately discussing their change in shifts), which is something. Their wonderful station manager has never showed such concern.

It's like he constantly has a hole in his chest, like there's always something missing in his day, because there's no more smile to coax, no more movication to give. No more Beca.

And it doesn't help at all that their lives are so distinctly intertwined.

In hindsight, he has no one to blame but himself. He had done this; he was the one who'd decided to build his life in Barden around her.

Because in his movie-driven mind, he had only foreseen one ending—and it wasn't this.

Beca is inescapable. She's at work, in class (because of freaking _course_ his English professor decides to take a few weeks off and leaves Dr. Mitchell in his place, fuck the universe), and in rehearsals. (For all the Trebles' so-called aversion toward all things Bella, they sure can't seem to stop talking about them.) Everywhere he turns; it's a reminder of what he's lost, of what he's never even had.

Beca is everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and it feels like bits of his heart are chipping off inside.

* * *

One thing he should've expected by now is that Beca Mitchell is unexpected.

He never expected her to show up at the same internship as his.

He never expected her to join the Bellas.

He never expected her to dislike movies.

He never expected her to turn him away so coldly.

He never expected her to turn up at his door after Spring Break.

He sure as hell never expected _this_.

"Don't you forget about me…"

_Well I'll be damned._

Call him crazy, but there's something about being serenaded by the girl you've spent a year chasing after, that makes him want to rethink his resolve to get over her.

Beca Mitchell is onstage, singing a _movie_ song, a _Breakfast Club_ song, a song _to him_. It's making his heart soar and he doesn't give two fucks about how ridiculously girly that sounds at the moment.

Because Beca Mitchell is singing to him.

"As you walk on by, will you call my name…"

Jesse, being the movie nerd that he proudly is, has always dreamt of having his big movie-worthy moment. He's dreamt about having something happen to him that is so extraordinary that he has to pinch himself to make sure it's real.

That something is Beca.

That something is Beca _singing_ to him in front of the world, to be exact.

(He feels the need to say that a few more times just make sure it's actually happening.)

"As you walk on by, will you call my name…"

This is it. This is their movie moment. This is the culmination of a year's worth of deep-seated feelings and romantic tension.

So what does he do about it?

He raises his fist. (_Duh._)

* * *

There are a lot of things that Jesse has learned about Beca Mitchell.

The most important being: there is always something new to learn about Beca.

And while he's learned a lot about Beca, he's also learned a thing or two about himself.

The most important being: he will never get tired of learning something new about Beca.

He's had a year to get to know Beca Mitchell, but now that he has her in his arms, now that she's kissing him, he knows it's just the beginning. And hell yes, he's looking forward to whatever it is that comes ahead. (He's already predicted their future anyway; this is all really just a step in the _inevitable_ direction.)

Because now that he has her, he's never letting go.

For better or worse, in the station or in the quad, before or after college, as Bella and a Treble, never will they part.

(Alright, he knows he sounds creepy, but sue him, he's in love.)

* * *

**I know endings are supposed to be the best part, but ironically, they're the part I suck at writing the most. So, forgive me.**

**And let me hear (read) your thoughts!**


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